


home (is where your heart is set in stone)

by giucorreias



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Awkwardness, Family Bonding, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21825670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giucorreias/pseuds/giucorreias
Summary: David learns how to be a father.
Relationships: Kevin Day & David Wymack
Comments: 5
Kudos: 75
Collections: AFTG Exchange Winter 2019, Fic that fills the void in me





	home (is where your heart is set in stone)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jojen_hewitt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojen_hewitt/gifts).



> This is a gift for jojen-hewitt at the aftg winter exchange! I wrote some Wymack & Kevin family bonding time, and I hope you like it!!

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he tells Abby one evening when it’s just the two of them. “I don’t- he’s already an adult, and I feel like he doesn’t need a father. If it were me in his place, I would- I wouldn’t-” he gestures around, unsure of what, exactly, it is that he wants to say.

What, exactly, he’d do in Kevin’s place.

“David,” she answers, patiently, softly. “He came to you unsure of his welcome, right after he hurt his hand, when he didn’t know what else to do, and you accepted him without asking for anything in return. You’ve been fathering that boy before you even knew he was your child.”

It doesn’t sound like he’s done enough, so he shakes his head. “It isn’t the same. I’ve been his  _ coach _ . I’ve yelled at him about his form and asked him to do better. I’ve done for him what any decent person would ever do. And I-”

Abby touches his shoulder. She looks at him with deep, dark eyes and a sad smile on her face. “You want to do better,” she declares. “Well,  _ do better _ .”

  
  


The problem is that David had never expected to be a father or build a family. When he was young, running away from the only home he had ever known —  _ had it been a home _ ? — he had promised himself he would never make the same mistakes his mother had made. He had vowed never to have any children, so fucking them up wouldn’t be a possibility.

He regrets it, now, having told Kayleigh that he didn’t want any kids ( _ period _ ). He wonders, now, if that was the reason why she-

Well, wondering does he no good. Regretting doesn’t, either. He can’t go back in time and take his words away, can’t go back and stop Kayleigh from trusting his son to the wrong person. What he  _ can _ do is be a decent father to Kevin and hope it isn’t too late. 

It  _ isn’t _ too late.

  
  


“We should do something for your birthday,” he says before he loses his nerve. Kevin looks up from his laptop and blinks once, then looks down again to pause the game he had been watching.

“What-” Kevin starts, frowning, then seemingly changes his mind. “Why?”

David resists the urge to sigh and puts his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He takes one out right afterwards, and cards it through his hair. The silence has gone on too long, and he doesn’t know what to say to that. He has no arguments. He wasn’t expecting a question. A  _ no _ , maybe. Worst case scenario, Kevin laughing at his poor attempts of bonding. Not a question.

“... It’s your birthday.”

“I-” Kevin shrugs. Another long minute of silence ensues. The boy opens and closes his mouth a few times, and David wishes he hadn’t said anything. But then Kevin answers, carefully, slowly: “... We could do something.” 

  
  


They go out for brunch, and it’s awkward, it’s horrible. He doesn’t really know what to say, what to ask, he doesn’t know where they stand. He isn’t sure what he is and isn’t allowed to talk about, and he doesn’t want to harm the fragile father-and-son relationship he is — they are? — trying to build.

He doesn’t know anything about his son beyond his exy stats, but he doesn’t think he can ask him about his favorite food and favorite color without making this even more awkward. “How’s… Thea?” He asks, then promptly grimaces at his own question.

“Good.” Kevin puts his hand on the table, plays with the napkins. “She’s- travelling. Playing. Professionally. How’s… Abby?”

“She’s- good,” he says, and he can’t think of anything else to say that Kevin doesn’t already know.

When the food (finally) comes, they eat so they don’t have to talk. 

Later, after they’re done, once they’re already inside the car, David expects Kevin to ask him never to invite him out again, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns on the radio without prompting, then rolls down the windows so he can look outside.

“Happy Birthday,” David says, remembering suddenly that he hadn’t yet.

Kevin doesn’t turn to him, but his voice is soft when he answers, wistful. “Thanks.”

  
  


David often finds himself wondering what he would have liked his father to do, and then agonizes for days over whether Kevin will like it or not before acting on it. He invites him for brunch now and again, gives him advice when he seems to be struggling, offers him encouragement when the team isn’t doing well.

He isn’t sure Kevin appreciates any of it, but as long as he doesn’t complain, David plans to keep at it.

  
  


“I’ve got tickets for the next Outlaw’s game,” he tells Kevin after training, just as he’s leaving with Andrew’s entourage. It’s a mistake. Andrew raises one eyebrow at him, and Nicky starts gushing about how cute it is that they’re working on their familial bonds. He doesn’t blush, because he’s too old for that, but he does wish he had thought about the logistics of this scene before making it.

Surprisingly, Kevin doesn’t seem bothered. He perks up, instead, eyes bright even if he isn’t quite smiling. “The final?”

“Yeah, yes. I’m friends with their current coach, you might have heard of him, J-”

“John Plater, of course I’ve heard of him. Ever since he took over the team, they’ve been winning every game. You’re  _ friends _ with him? Can I  _ meet _ him?”

David chuckles. “You want to go with me, then?”

“Of course, dad, I-” Kevin freezes, eyes wide and mouth half-open. For a moment, David doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, even if he feels like it  _ is _ a big deal. So he just- he taps once Kevin on his shoulder, and starts walking away.

Unsatisfied, he turns back. “I’m looking forwards to watching the final with you, son,” he says, and  _ then _ walks away before Kevin has any chance to answer or anyone else has any chance to say  _ anything _ .

  
  


“I wasn’t ever going to tell you that you’re my father,” Kevin tells him one day. It’s only afternoon, but his coffee table is already littered with the remains of several beer bottles, and they’re sitting side by side while someone on the TV blatters on and on about game statistics. Outside, the sun is still shining bright. 

David takes his bottle, takes a sip, then turns towards Kevin with a frown on his face. “No?” He thinks about how different his life would’ve been these last couple of months, had Kevin never told him, and doesn’t like what he comes up with. It wasn’t easy, he can’t say it was easy, but he likes how far they have come. “Why?”

“Mom wrote in her letter that you never wanted to be a father and I- I wasn’t sure you were going to be- happy. Or… want it. You were-  _ are _ \- a good coach. I was satisfied with that.”

“You have to know that if Kayleigh had told me then, I would have stopped at nothing to be a good father to you and raise you right.”

“I know.” Kevin nods. “I know.”

David sighs. There’s no point regretting the years they didn’t have together, and he has already told himself he wouldn't do it. Instead, he approaches Kevin — approaches his son — and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, looks him in the eye.

He says: “I’m glad you are my child.”

Kevin shrugs, then looks away. He turns up the volume of the TV, up to the top, just as the striker manages a goal, so David lets go of his shoulders and settles to watch the game.

It’s minutes before Kevin answers, and he says it so low that David barely even hears it. Kevin says: “I’m glad I am your child, too.”


End file.
